Marvin sat in his dimly lit room, surrounded by the scent of old books and worn-out notebooks. The clock on the wall ticked softly, a reminder of quietness settling deep within his home. It was the kind of night that felt infinite, with shadows creeping into corners and silence wrapping around him like a heavy blanket. Suddenly, a faint knocking interrupted his solitude.
He turned instinctively toward the noise, straining his ears to discern its source. The knocking grew louder, almost playful. When he finally peered out his window, the faint figure of Sidel, illuminated by the moonlight, flashed her mischievous smile. She giggled, her voice light and airy as she knocked again, a gentle rhythm that danced in the night.
"Oh sorry, I almost didn't hear you!" Marvin chuckled, opening the window. The cool air rushed in with her, bringing a whiff of adventure. "It's so funny you kept knocking, I didn't even realize."
Sidel climbed through, her laughter filling the room. "Oh, it's okay! You should have seen your face when I came in. I was at the front door first, but I think you were too absorbed in your... nerdy stuff!" Her playful tease echoed off the walls, and Marvin felt his cheeks flush.
"Nerdy stuff? Well, I guess I do have my hobbies," he replied, a grin spreading across his face. "This is the first time we're really hanging out alone, isn't it?"
She bounced on the edge of his bed, glancing around at the shelves stacked with books and science projects. "Yeah, it is! And hey, I really would like to know more about you—who you are when you're not at school, or in front of everyone else."
Marvin scratched his head, a little sheepish. "I'm just... well, I like reading and science. I go to conventions, do experiments—little things I'm passionate about, you know? It might seem boring to some."
"Boring? You're interesting! I think that's so cool," she protested. "I wish I could be into that stuff, but I'm just... well, I do drama. You should join the club with me."
A flicker of surprise gleamed in Marvin's eyes. "Drama? Really? I hadn't thought of that. I mean, I have gone with Martel and Sarah a couple of times, but I never considered acting."
"Why not?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "You'd be great at it! Imagine portraying different characters, feeling all those emotions. Plus, you'd be with me!"
Marvin found himself warming to the idea. "You think I'd be good?"
"I know you would be!" Sidel leaned closer, a conspiratorial whisper, "Just think about it. You can wear capes and hold swords—or just, you know, act like someone you're not... It's liberating!"
As they spoke, the nervousness in Marvin began to dissipate. Here was Sidel, vibrant and animated, encouraging him to step out of his comfort zone. "Okay," he said hesitantly, "I'll give it a try."
Sidel clapped her hands together, bouncing in delight. "Yes! We can create our own world on stage, Marvin. Wouldn't that be amazing?"
"Yeah," he replied, the thought igniting a spark of excitement he hadn't felt before. "I want to play a hero, though."
"Deal!" she exclaimed. "We'll be the best duo!"
As they chatted about roles and dreams, the shadows in the room seemed to lift, replaced by warmth and the promise of endless possibilities. In that moment, under the watchful gaze of the stars, Marvin realized that perhaps stepping off the beaten path wasn't so scary after all.
Sidel felt her heart race as her phone chimed, breaking the silence that had enveloped her room. Rolling over in her bed, she reached for her device, hoping it was a distraction from the looming sense of dread she had been carrying all week. But as she opened her messenger, her breath caught in her throat.
Walter Hoppe: Sorry to interrupt and have you seen your mother somewhere? I think she went missing from the mental hospital about two days ago. Do you know where she is? I've tried calling her...
She hesitated, her mind racing back through memories tangled in confusion and pain. Hovering over the keyboard, she typed a reply, pouring her feelings into the characters.
I don't know Uncle. She's always searching for a job and never changes, not even for me. She doesn't care about us. Just... let her do what she needs to do.
"Are you okay?" Marvin's voice broke through her thoughts, wrapping around her like a warm blanket. She looked up to find him seated on the edge of her bed, concern etched across his features.
"I'm fine. It's just Uncle Walter asking about my mother again. I really don't want to talk about it," she replied, frustration mingling with sadness.
"Why not? Talking could help," Marvin pressed gently, his eyes searching hers. "You know you can tell me."
"I guess I just miss her. I want a mother who cares, not one who runs away," she sighed, slumping back against her pillows. Her gaze darted to the wall, avoiding his eyes as the truth dripped from her lips.
"What do you mean?" Marvin raised an eyebrow, intrigued yet confused.
"I look at other kids and see their moms—businesswomen, doctors, heroes. Meanwhile, mine runs from the law. Sometimes, I just wish she could be someone different, someone better."
"Maybe she has her reasons," Marvin suggested gently. "You said she struggles with things..."
Sidel glared at him, her temper flaring. "Yes, she has schizophrenia and dyscalculia, but also psychopathy. She's not just struggling; she's a danger to herself and others."
Marvin fell silent, absorbing her words. "That must be hard," he finally said, his voice low. "But at least she was there for you in a way..."
"Yeah," Sidel chuckled bitterly, remembering how her mother had stood up for her against school bullies. "She would beat up kids who tried to mess with me. But... I don't want that. I just want her to have a normal life, one where she doesn't have to hide from the police."
"But do you hate her?" Marvin asked, his brows knitted in concern.
"No, I don't. I get it. I just wish she were better at being a mom." As the words left her, Sidel felt a weight lifting; it was cathartic to voice her feelings.
With a sudden impulse, she pulled out her phone to show Marvin her wallpaper—a faded photo of her and her mother when she was thirteen. Sidel's heart ached at the sight of them smiling, carefree.
"She was such a good person once, before everything went wrong," Sidel murmured, handing her phone to Marvin.
"Your mother loved you, you can see that. This picture shows it." Marvin ran a gentle finger over the screen, pausing on the image that sparked bittersweet memories.
"Yeah. I just wish she could do something more... meaningful," Sidel added, lost in thought.
"Sounds like you're bored. Want to watch a movie?" Marvin grinned, clearly eager to change the conversation. "How about some action flick?"
Sidel's mood lifted a fraction. "Yeah! I could use an explosion or two right about now."
Marvin took charge, rising eagerly and flinging open his cabinet to reveal a collection of movies. Sidel watched him, grateful for the warmth of a friend amidst the cold reality of her family. Actors flashed across the screen, and for a little while, Sidel could forget her worries, letting the thrills of cinema sweep her away from the complexities of her life.
Henrik was standing at the grand entrance of Heinen's mansion, the smell of freshly polished wood and faint lavender air freshener filling his nostrils. He grasped the elegant brass doorknob and swung the door open, half-expecting to be greeted by the usual array of staff members hovering like overzealous waiters at a wedding.
Instead, his eyes locked onto a figure he hadn't seen in what felt like ages. "Janina?" he gasped, half in disbelief and half in what could only be described as a comedic gasp. "I can't believe you're back! I thought you were dead!"
Jasmin blinked at him, her bushy brown hair framing her confused face. "Oh and... Why are you so shocked? And who are you??"
The air turned thick with awkwardness as Henrik pointed to himself, practically bouncing on his heels in excitement. "Don't you even recognize me??"
"No," Jasmin replied bluntly, tilting her head. "And sorry, I don't know what's going on here. I was in the hospital for two weeks, and they said I can't remember anything! Martin told me about it..."
Henrik puffed out his chest as if to display his friendship badge. "I'm Henrik Spitze, and I'm your friend! We met at the Fine-Bodyguard company. We've trained together!"
Jasmin scratched her head, still at a loss. "What company?"
"The company where we became elite bodyguards!" He can't help but gesture grandly as if discussing a royal lineage. "It was all very official—like, green banners and a cool bodyguard symbol! And you were with me in training—through thick and thin!"
"Since when...?" she ventured.
"Let's see. That was back in the year 2013. You'll remember that year... so significant!" He grinned widely.
"What's the year again?"
"2013..."
"Twen-teen?" Jasmin mispronounced, giggling.
"Oh my gosh, you may have severe amnesia!" Henrik chuckled, realizing it wasn't the most tactful way to describe her situation.
"I... I can't remember, seriously! I woke up and... poof! My memory's like a forgotten TV show!" she exclaimed, her hands waving dramatically.
Henrik felt a twinge of sympathy but quickly masked it with enthusiasm. "Okay, okay, let's jog that memory. What color was the Fine-Bodyguard banner? That will surely bring it all back!"
Jasmin frowned in concentration. "I think... green? And there was a guy with a gun? Was there a cape too, or am I just imagining my superhero career?"
"Just the guy with the gun! Alas, no capes," Henrik chuckled. "Wait! I've got a photo!"
He fished out a slightly crumpled picture of himself, a younger Jasmin, and the infamous green banner. He handed it over.
"Oh! This is brilliant! I'll save this and... maybe I can recover my memory like a child with a lost toy!" Jasmin exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she studied the image.
"That's the spirit! And who knows? Maybe you'll remember all the times I heroically saved you from the perils of terrible lunches!"
"Terrible lunches?" Jasmin asked, a playful eyebrow raised.
"Yeah! The catering was a total disaster—sloppy joes on taco Tuesday! Unforgivable!" Henrik laughed, and Jasmin joined in, her laughter ringing through the air, clearing some of the bewilderment.
"Am I really a bodyguard? Wow, I'm actually kind of impressed with myself!" she sounded enthusiastic now, though there lingered a hint of uncertainty. "So... what do we do now? Are we going to guard someone?"
"Yeah! Sonja is our boss and we have to keep her safe from... protests! Mostly from those wild, protest-y types!" Henrik replied dramatically, throwing a finger to the air like a circus ringmaster.
"Bored already," Jasmin said honestly, crossing her arms. "Do you have any idea why I'm with you again? Have we... like, done things?"
Before Henrik could respond, Jasmin cut him off. "Oh gosh, you're my husband too!"
"No, no! We're not married! I didn't say that. We're just close friends with a secret... relationship!" he exclaimed, waving his arms in exasperation as if trying to shoo a flock of pigeons away.
"Wow, are you making quotes now?" she giggled, bemused.
Henrik sighed, scratching his head. "Look, all I'm saying is—do you want a tour around this house? You know, to jog that memory?"
And with every step they took, as Henrik flamboyantly narrated the household décor, Jasmin found herself laughing and feeling less like a blank slate. "I hope this refreshes my memory," she grinned.
"Yeah! Let's refresh your memory... And maybe grab a snack on the way. Those terrible lunches won't remember themselves!"
At that, they strolled down the hall and a promise of would-be rediscoveries.
Rafella had been assigned the most mundane yet critical task of her teen life—house-sitting. Her best friend's family had gone on vacation, leaving her in charge of their quaint little home and, more importantly, their delightfully cunning dog, Muffin. As she sat on their squeaky sofa, one eye on the cartoon that Muffin was far too interested in and the other on the front door, she thought guarding a house didn't quite take the same energy as guarding a castle.
Just as Rafella was losing herself in a rare moment of peace, the front door swung open, and there stood Gerlinda, her other best friend, a box of cookies in her hands, her face beaming with misguided enthusiasm.
"Hey there, cookie guard!" Gerlinda exclaimed, strutting in like she had just won an award for 'Best Friend of the Year.'
"No thank you, Gerlinda...," Rafella began, waving her hand defiantly at the fragrant box. The sweet smell wafted toward her, as if it were a magician's trick, casting a spell of sugary temptation.
"Oh come on!" cried Gerlinda, a laugh bubbling up like a pot of old stew. "I think your guarding me enough, and I really want to give you a nice reward..."
Rafella hesitated, her willpower crumbling faster than the cookies she was so desperately trying to resist. Gerlinda held the box open, the light from the living room making the cookies glisten like jewels.
"Oh, okay!" Rafella capitulated, snatching one of the cookies and taking a big bite. "Maybe it's nice that you're so nice to me... How about Sabina?"
"She's in her room enjoying watching TV," Gerlinda replied, plopping down onto the couch with a satisfied grin. "For now, I wanted to be here with you. Also, I just wanted to ask something..."
"Yes, sure, ask me anything," Rafella replied, licking cookie crumbs from her fingers.
"Do you already have a crush on someone?"
Rafella shook her head vigorously. "No, Linda, and I'm not really interested in having a love life if you're thinking I am."
"I'm not! I was just wondering if someone makes you happy..."
"Of course, but it's not about having a crush. My mother makes me happy," Rafella said, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she pulled Gerlinda closer.
"I think I'm expert on that! I saw a romantic movie once, and why do people have sad endings sometimes?" Gerlinda mused, her eyes wide and curious.
"Ah, you know, sometimes people get married for the wrong reasons. Like when they're not honest with each other."
Gerlinda's eyes widened even more. "So that's why that happened to my mommy and daddy?"
"Definitely. And you know, your mother worked so hard for you, and your father..." Rafella shuddered, "he just didn't hold up his end. Your mom deserves all the credit for being so awesome!"
"Because of that, that's why I hate him so much," Gerlinda pouted, crossing her arms.
"Yes, well, your mother's doing her best. It's important to remember that she's working so hard for you. Women should never depend on men to keep standing tall," Rafella said, channeling her inner motivational speaker.
"I think I will remember that," Gerlinda said, her eyes thoughtful.
"And your mom is proud of you when you study well. So, what do you want to be when you grow up?" Rafella nudged.
"I want to be a doctor!" Gerlinda declared, bouncing on the sofa.
"Wow, that's good! At least you're dreaming big, and that's just nice," Rafella replied, genuinely impressed.
Walter leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on the computer screen as Alody's image flickered to life. The soft glow of the webcam exposed the weariness etched into Walter's face. He tried to smile, but it felt brittle, held together by fraying threads of hope and anxiety.
"Hey, you still don't have any idea where possibly your sister was?" Alody's voice was casual, but Walter could hear the underlying concern. Alody was sprawled across a sofa, a glass of juice held lazily in one hand, as if distancing himself from the weight of the conversation.
Walter shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm sure that I'll find her soon. I hope she has started to accept Janina's gone," he muttered, the name tasting bitter on his tongue.
"Oh, I think she could come back later. It's just... she's very upset about her best friend. Losing someone when you don't have parents around? That's rough," Alody replied, a soft edge in his tone.
Walter remembered their sister's laughter echoing in the halls, dimmed now to an unbearable silence. "Yeah, Jasmin told me that before," he replied, his voice trailing.
"And me too. She said she was trying to be strong, as always," Alody added.
"Did you even talk to Jasmin?" Walter's distress seeped into his voice like a slow leak in a dam.
"No, not yet. She isn't answering my messages, and it's probably—oh, I don't know." Alody sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Maybe she's too upset. You know how her mental condition works."
Walter stared at the wall behind his computer, a shadow of guilt creeping over him. "But I told her I'm doing my best to make her feel better. She needs to stay in therapy for a year, and I don't understand why she won't just let me help her."
"Maybe you should support her instead of forcing her back there," Alody suggested, his brows furrowing. "You can't just push Jasmin into compliance."
Walter's heart sank. "I know I can't force her, Alody. I just... I'm trying my best."
"She will understand," Alody responded softly. "Just give her time."
The shadows in Walter's mind deepened, twisting around his thoughts. He saw the silhouette of his sister running through the park with Janina, both of them alive and full of laughter, invincible.
"Okay, it's night here in Germany. We can talk again tomorrow," Alody said, shifting in his seat.
"Sure," Walter murmured, feeling as though he were drifting away as Alody's image dissolved from view.
He turned off the video call and rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the heaviness that clung to him. The dim office felt like a tomb, filled with echoes of unspoken fears and shadows of unresolved pain. He glanced at Fabienne, who stood like a sentinel near the door, her presence a reminder of the ever-watchful eyes on them.
"Are you already leaving?" she asked, her voice sharp yet concerned.
"No. I need to do something else. I think I should go see Judith," Walter said frankly, feeling the urgency claw at him.
"Really? I hope you're not planning to stay longer than necessary. The bodyguards are already at the Heinen's mansion; you shouldn't feel too safe." Her words were punctuated with a hint of frustration.
"Thanks for the reminder. I really need to go," Walter said, determination rippling through him. He rubbed his hands together, knuckles crackling, as he steeled himself for whatever awaited him in the dark.
Walter stepped outside the office, the weight of the day's meetings heavy on his shoulders. The elevator doors had barely closed when he noticed Judith, alone in the dimly lit hallway, diligently cleaning the floor. A mop in one hand and a bucket in the other, she moved methodically, her brow furrowed in concentration.
"Why are you cleaning alone?" he asked, instinctively rushing over to offer his help.
Judith paused, letting out a weary sigh. "Because, like I told you before, we're lacking staff here. There's only one janitor left," she replied, her voice laced with frustration as she continued her task.
Walter nodded, glancing around at the neglected corners of the office. "It's clear you need more employees. How long have you been doing this?"
"Six years," she said, a hint of pride sparking in her tired eyes. "I started as a janitor myself before moving up to secretary. But with all these meetings, things get messy, and I often find myself wearing multiple hats."
He admired her resilience, recognizing the subtle devastation behind her candid response. The corridor filled with a heavy silence as he watched her work. "I really enjoyed our coffee break today. Maybe we should go out together sometime? It's not safe for you to go home alone like this."
Judith grinned, though a shadow passed over her features. "Why? Because I'm disabled?"
"No," Walter clarified hastily. "It's... because people can be unpredictable. We need to be wise in this city." He frowned, the concern knitting his brow. "You should be more cautious, especially if you're alone."
"That's why I hired a bodyguard," she replied, her tone strangely light. "I can't have my daughter in danger either. It's just... bad out there."
"Who is it?" he probed, entering the conversation with curiosity.
She shifted her weight, her confidence returning. "Her name is Rafella. She's a friend of my ex-husband and knows how to handle things." Her voice carried a note of satisfaction, a rare taste of control in her chaotic life. "She's got three years of martial arts under her belt."
Walter couldn't help but chuckle, his admiration growing. "That's impressive. I didn't need a bodyguard back when I was growing up; my niece is grown now."
"Sounds sensible," she replied, though her eyes flared with a hint of doubt. "What if you need someone?"
"I think about it," he admitted, his tone shifting into something more serious. "But I'd rather not live in fear."
Judith regarded him thoughtfully, and after a prolonged silence, he took a deep breath. "How about it, then? Would you like to go out for a drink sometime?"
Judith hesitated, biting her lip. "I don't know. I'm... older than you, and it just feels strange."
"There's no need to be embarrassed," Walter reassured her. "I'm not worried about age; I'm just worried about you having fun."
A memory flickered across her face, and for a moment, she seemed lost. "When I was with my husband, I constantly felt worthless. He called me all sorts of names." Her voice trembled, revealing the ache of deep-seated insecurities.
"Those words don't define you," he stated firmly, his heart aching for her. "Your ex-husband was a jerk. You've always done your best, and he should have respected you for it."
She breathed softly, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. "Maybe you're right."
"Why don't you come with me? Just this once. I promise I'll make sure you have a good time."
In that moment, Judith saw the warmth in his invitation, how genuine it felt compared to the bitterness of her past. "Thank you," she replied, the reluctance fading from her voice.
At the bar that night, they danced together for the first time. The music surged joyfully around them, and though Judith's insecurities still lingered in the back of her mind, something shifted. For the first time in a long while, she felt a flicker of happiness, allowing herself to believe that perhaps she wasn't alone in this world after all. Walter held her close, both of them oblivious to the chaos waiting outside the bar's warm embrace.